All in all, there were worse things Mrs. Lovett had done in her life than taking the boy into her bed. She'd stolen (but only a few trifles, and the poor souls would have no use for the money in heaven.) She'd lied (no, not lies- polite concealments.) She'd made unsanitary meals out of what was available and served them to an unsuspecting public (but she was only giving them what they wanted.) She'd even kept quiet about a murderer living on the upstairs floor (but it would have been utterly heartless to turn him in.) Tumbling with a youth who'd clearly enjoyed it could not be counted as a sin compared to such things.
He'd been so nervous, so eager, so willing to oblige. He'd seen the bruises Mr. Todd had left and cried over them, wanting to help make it all better. And so she had given him simple directions, as she had done so many times when showing him about the kitchen.
She had enjoyed herself, too. Toby could never compare with Mr. Todd, but that also meant she didn't think he was likely to strangle her in a moment of passion. Toby left no cuts or scratches on her breasts or neck, and his touch was hesitant, nearly worshipful.
He'd had a good time as well, hadn't he? She was fairly sure of it. Besides, he could have stopped her at any time he wanted. It wasn't as if she'd attacked the boy, for heaven's sake.
No, Mrs. Lovett hadn't been cruel to Toby, not deliberately. That was something she was certain she'd never been guilty of.
Besides, it would make Mr. Todd jealous, and that was always a good thing.
***
He wondered afterwards why she hadn't kissed him. Or maybe you weren't supposed to- he wasn't quite sure about these things.
Toby only hoped he'd done it right, but it had been his first time. Well, first time with a woman. There had been other times in his seventeen years of life (on the streets or with Pirelli) when he'd had to stay quiet, keep his eyes closed, and do as he'd been told. He'd get a beating if he didn't, and it usually didn't take very long.
Of course this was different. It had to be. She hadn't threatened him, it didn't hurt, and it had been what he wanted.
Or almost what he wanted. She hadn't said that she loved him, but she must have meant it.
***
When Todd realized what had happened, his reaction was closer to disgust than anything else.
If she had to dally with someone, he supposed it was best that her partner be one unlikely to pry any secrets from her. But for god's sake, an overgrown half-wit who considered her a mother? Was she really that depraved? If she was that mad for the attentions of young men, even the sailor boy would have been a better choice than a lad with the mind of a child. Or perhaps she'd already had her fill of the sailor - who knew how long she'd been raising her skirts behind his back? He was unable to work himself into a jealous rage at the thought, but it did irritate him.
Whatever her reasons, it would get in the way of things if she continued.
When he next saw her in the kitchen (smiling as if she didn't know how much noise she had made the previous night,) Todd considered things carefully. She surely knew that he would find out. What did she expect him to do? Beat her? Make as if to kill her? Throw her down right there on the table?
She would want him to be angry, but he had a much better solution. Todd returned her smile slightly.
"It was kind of you not to bother me last night- but next time, try to be a bit quieter with the boy."
Her face fell, and he turned to go back upstairs. No more needed to be said- she would not take Toby to bed again.